


Miss Me Madly

by The_Thieving_Magpie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cock Tease, Fluff, Jim is a Tease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Thieving_Magpie/pseuds/The_Thieving_Magpie
Summary: prompt for t0rchw00d-3 on TumblrJust a little fluffy tease   :P





	

Sherlock turned the phone over in his hand, as if there were something to be seen on the other side of it. The thin glow of the light began to fade, and he quickly turned it back over again.

 

_Miss me?_

_Dorchester Hotel._

_Tea for 2._

_3pm._

 

_JM x_

 

He stared at it, and then summarily decided it was an unnaturally cruel trick perpetrated on him. Perhaps Mycroft decided to see just how far down into the rabbit hole this whole thing went. Or more likely - it was a holdout from Jim’s army of assassins. He was being set up to die. That in mind, Sherlock did indeed go, but he went with two guns well loaded and concealed, ready to be drawn in a moment’s notice.

It _couldn’t_ be him.

He refused to take that trip down memory lane because it was destined to end badly. Very badly. And with a sadness Sherlock had no interest in re-stoking. He’d just barely gotten the worst of the nightmares and dreams to ease up .. now they were less frequent ..

walking into the tea room, Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat. He was _there_.

_No, it can’t really be him. He had a body double. He had … Christ maybe a clone even .. it can’t be him._

Sherlock walked to the table, his eyes wide, disbelieving.

“Hello, Sexy.”

“I’m dreaming. This can’t be real. You died .. you died to spite me, to force me to die with you and … and I saw you die …”

“Oh come on. Sit down. Don’t be so dramatic. Sit down with me. Did you miss me?”

The voice was identical. The scent of the man was identical, and not the cologne but the personal, intimate, real scent of him. It was Moriarty.

” _How_?!!”

”Answer _my_ question first.”

”…….”

”I want the truth.”

”You already know the truth.”

”You need to say it.”

”You know goddamned _well_ I missed you.” Sherlock snarled, enraged at having to say this vile truth out loud. Where decent people might hear it, where the shame of his deep and all pervading obsession was a raw and open wound.

”There we go.” Jim said cheerfully.

”Now answer _my_ question!!”

Jim smiled around his teacup, and lightly licked the edge, teasing, making every movement sensual and sly, every breath a seduction.

 

 

”Oh honey. You’re going to have to _earn_ that.”

 

 

 


End file.
